Today marks the 20th anniversary for EQs release. I found myself looking in the mirror. My back is hunched over about 20-30 degrees from its original posture of my birth. As I considered myself, my hunch reflection looked back upon me warmly. Thanks Verant, SOE, Brad McQuaid, Mom, The Alaska State Dividend, El Monterey Microwavable Burritos - and all you Brellians tuning in.

It all began with my first Alaska State Dividend check. Instead of opting for it to go into a savings account for college, I did the more reasonable thing: Spend the entirety on a brand new PC. It was a complete necessity, as I had already been playing EQ on the family computer. My stepdad and I shared an account. This would cause immense frustration, as he got off work the same time I got out from school. I’d literally run as fast as I could, images of polygonal paradise dancing in my brain. Sometimes I could see my stepdads black GMC Suburban hauling ass off in the distance. This would prompt me to run as if I had a spirit of the wolf cast upon me. Sometimes we’d collide, both running into the house and lunging for the computer chair.

Anyhow, many long nights were spent at my new battle station. I’d always be greeted by Firiona Vie’s welcoming bust and bare midriff. I’d stay up all night, and snap out of my Norrathian trance to the sound of a knock on my door. Time for school.

As the months went by, my grades slipped into Ds and Fs. I had become increasingly disenchanted with my peers, who seemed to be handling puberty a lot better than myself. Thanks to my newfound pixilated passion, my physical activity level took a nosedive. In a little more than a year, I had made a transformation I can only describe as Fred Savage from The Wonder Years suddenly turning into Paul Blart: Mall Cop. I’d grown a foot, nearly doubled my weight, and grew a thick caterpillar mustache. My voice didn’t change though, my giant frame was accompanied by a shrill, feminine set of vocal chords. It’s ok though... My REAL voice was through my grubby digits jabbing keys on a sticky keyboard.

I was Garrdor the Barbarian Warrior, hailing from the northern town of Halas. I’m tall and handsome, wearing a kilt and blue warpaint on my face like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. I destroy everything in my path that’s dark blue or lighter. My bags are full of wolf pelts and goblin ears. My only friend was the silence of the 640x480 tundra of Everfrost Peaks. Oh, and my stepdad Rod.

Rodmanj the (also) Barbarian Warrior hacked and slashed at the frosty fauna, never too far away. He was a bit more impressive, quickly achieving class armor and weapons. He had already outfitted himself in shiny blue crafted armor, while I was running around in rusty chainmail. I was half tempted to log into his account and steal his precious treasures. I refrained though, as I had a pretty sweet situation, and I’d probably throw a shit fit if I lost my computer privileges.

Fast forward a couple of years. EverQuest has a couple of expansions, but the real expansion had been my waistline. I sat there hunched in my rickety computer chair. The once robust and comfortable cushion is flat and smells like burrito farts. I chug the last warm swig from a three liter of Mt. Dew, the sticky sweet droplets rolling down my second chin. I’m an officer in The White Wolf Brigade, a small roleplay guild. I salute my computer monitor whenever I see Arclan, our fearless leader.

I’m running some dungeon in Velious, yelling and banging on the wall:

“Mom! Burritos! Mommm!!!”

This would lead to what I’d like to call the Great Server Crash of 2001. My mom came into my room with a steamin plate of El Monterey. She tripped over an empty Mt. Dew bottle and tossed m’brritz up in the air. I was heartbroken to see not only my mother, but a whole plate of perfectly good bean n chee hit the floor. You see, I would’ve just picked up said chimichangas and placed them back on the plate, but my room hadn’t been vacuumed in a year. I lost them all, and I still get chills thinking about them to this very day.

It was very sad the day I left Norrath. The White Wolf Brigade disbanded. We used to be such a thriving place. There’s some I can still name (that you can totally skip): Hadwin, Copeland, Fumarie, Josephine, Halleck, Rinulin and Anabasis, Jabs, Zakumara, Cabbage, Ylyrra, Errlan, Veric, Bahkal, and many others I’m ashamed to say I’ve forgotten by name. Some just quit or lost interest, some moved onto larger raiding guilds. I remember the White Wolf Brigade disbanding one fateful day, and deciding to go down with the ship.

I deleted Garrdor the Barbarian, and cancelled my subscription. I remember giving all of my gear away to one of our young warriors. I wish I could remember their name. Some of the gear was stuff I had held onto, stuff given to me by my in-game personal hero, Cabbage the Druid. I think about these people every once I awhile. I miss my friends Rinulin, Anabasis and Halleck. They were my nightly group mates and best friends - at a time where I didn’t have many. Sorry about the mushy stuff. Oh, speaking of mushy stuff - I totally pooped my pants one night during a plane of hate corpse retrieval. I was just holding it in, sweating as my stomach cramped. The retention would give loose a little bit each time, and it’d be all the harder to keep the mushy gooshy inside. I was literally grunting and moaning. It felt like I was sitting in a puddle of sweat. Well, it wasn’t sweat. Despite my best efforts, I had evacuated into my boxers. I went AFK and washed my poopy butt off in the shower and went outside and tossed my soiled boxers into our garbage can.

Well, life has been a lot different after I left Norrath. I miss the game a lot, but I don’t miss being a giant stinky manchild, sniffing his own greasy farts all day and night. I don’t miss crying and punching my pillow repeatedly when I lost the roll on the FBSS item. I do miss the people, and I do miss Firiona Vies big welcoming tits every time I logged in.